


Come a Little Closer (Dance Your Way into my Heart)

by Malevelynce



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dance, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Arguing, Cute, Dance auditions, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Hula Hunk, Insecurity, Kpop Keith, M/M, Older Keith, Stress, Valentine's Day, boys are probably around 22-23, cursing, fun times in the dance studio, older hunk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-15
Updated: 2018-02-15
Packaged: 2019-03-18 02:55:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13672794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Malevelynce/pseuds/Malevelynce
Summary: Stressed about an upcoming audition, Keith doesn't realize how loud his kpop is blasting through the wall until the hula teacher bursts into his studio, yelling at him for distracting his class. What starts out as irritation slowly transforms into something new, something sensational that neither can resist.





	Come a Little Closer (Dance Your Way into my Heart)

**Author's Note:**

> This is for the Heith Secret Valentine event on tumblr, written for RayRay, @plishooksy on tumblr  
> Here's a link to the Keith's dance! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FZ9lJ5ctd0s  
> I hope you enjoy and have a wonderful Valentine's Day <3

As sweat rolled down his spine, Keith could feel his shirt clinging to his damp skin, hot with with something more than the physical exertion. Music vibrated through his veins, his blood infused with the melody. The rhythm pulsed underneath his skin. Pounding in time with his rapid heart, the beat and the bassline resonated somewhere deep within him.

And he could feel the way he snapped his head around a moment early. Letting out an exasperated sigh filled with frustration and a twinge of hopelessness, Keith slammed the speaker off. He took joy in the instant quiet, nothing but the rasp of his breathing echoing throughout the room. Gasping for air, he allowed himself to collapse, sweat coating every inch of his body as his bare arms stuck to the floor of the dance studio.

Suppressing the urge to cry, Keith rolled over and pushed himself to his feet. He didn’t even allow himself the time to bring his heart rate down, stripping off his shirt and tossing it in the corner. With a sigh, he restarted the song and hopped into his opening position. Kpop burst through the speakers, immediately starting hard and fast, the rapper spitting out his words so quickly it was hard to believe it still sounded eloquent.

His movements were as succinct and precise as hours of practice could get them. Each flick of the wrist, each flex of the foot could mean the difference of whether he would be getting into the group or not. He needed to be perfect. And he was planning on staying at the studio all night if he had to in order to get this dance right. With the audition only three days away, his anxiety was building with each second ticking by. After an hour of rehearsal, he could feel himself getting closer to the way he wanted the dance to look.

But, of course, nothing could be that easy.

There was a semblance of a smirk working its way onto Keith’s lips as he snapped his head around just on the right time, syncing perfectly with the the music. Suddenly, and rather violently, the door swung open, startling Keith before it sent waves of fury throughout him. Standing in the doorway was a bulky man with gleaming, dark skin, black tattoos curling around his arms, and agitation sparking in his chocolate brown eyes. He was, most obviously, adorned in a hula skirt complete with a leaf circlet, bracelets, and anklets.

Keith didn’t care who this hula boy was or why he had interrupted him, he just wanted the guy out of his room so he could get back to practicing. Clenching his jaw and rolling his fingers into fists at his sides, Keith ground out, “I have this room reserved until 10:30.”

“My hula class can’t focus because you’re blasting your music so loud they can’t hear _anything_ ,” the guy complained, folding his arms over his chest, but oddly enough not looking Keith in the eye. With a faint rosiness to his cheeks, Keith seriously wondered what sort of hula dancing they were doing that would get the teacher so worked up.

Keith ran a hand through his hair and let out a sigh, trying to expel the anger from his system. This guy had no idea what he was rehearsing for, what this could mean for him. But that didn’t necessarily mean that Keith should spit out the harsh rebuttals waiting in the back of his throat. Taking a deep breath, he reasoned with himself that his music was a little louder than it needed to be. “Sorry,” he muttered with a sarcastic tone that made it far to obvious he was sorry at all, rolling his eyes. When he lowered the volume and turned back around, the guy was still standing in the threshold of the studio. “Something else you wanna complain about?” he snapped.

He seemed to visibly stiffen and awkwardly scratched the back of his neck, turning away quickly. “Thanks!” he called over his shoulder, closing the door harshly behind him.

Keith ruffled his hair and went to wipe his palms on his shirt when he realized it was still crumpled in the corner of the room. Grimacing, Keith connected his obvious sweating and overall disgusting appearance to the guy stumbling over his words. Whatever. It was his damn fault for interrupting him during his practice. Keith wasn’t about to feel self-conscious about some man he’d never see again. With a sigh, he restarted the song and went through the routine countless times, ignoring his screaming muscles and his heart beating so hard it felt like it might burst.

~ ~ ~

When Keith sauntered into the studio, aching and sore from the three straight hours of rehearsal the night before, he couldn’t help the sigh that dropped from his lips as he saw the man from last night ushering small kids into the room next to his own.

The man brought his smiling face up to look Keith in the eye before his grin fell off his face. He opened his mouth to say something before Keith raised his hands in the universal gesture for surrender. “Hey, I’ll keep the volume low, hula boy,” he chuckled, a lilt to his voice that edged toward annoyed--feelings from the night before had not been exactly assuaged.

“Hu-hula boy?” the man stumbled, obviously disgruntled as he flared his nostrils and crossed his arms. “Well sorry for actually having a good taste in music, wannabe kpop star!”

He did not just call Keith that. No way in hell. Something in the back of his mind knew that this stranger had no idea he was auditioning for a new group that was looking for members in the area. It was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity; this group was as close to a kpop as he was going to get outside of Korea. He had to nail this audition.

And now some random guy was telling him--inadvertently, but that didn’t matter--that he wasn’t going to make it into the group. Just a wannabe. He was never going to make it big for his dancing skills, much less his singing skills.

But his insecurities were for him to mull over in the dark of the night after nine unsuccessful attempts at the dance, not for some stranger to dredge up with one carelessly flung insult.

Letting the air hiss out from between clenched teeth, Keith growled, “Your career as a lieu dancer in some fake-ass resort show not work out, huh? Not burly enough to compete with the others? Not enough tattoos or something?” With each question, Keith took a calculated step forward, watching the anger manifest in the guy’s chocolate eyes.

“At least I have a stable job and not hopping from dance troupe to troupe, auditioning every other weekend to find something better!”

That hit a little too close to home for Keith. It was an exaggeration of the truth, but still the truth. This kpop group would be the fourth he’d auditioned for this year, and his current group sucks ass. So yeah, he was looking for something better, but what was wrong with that?

“At least I’ve continued with my passion instead of letting it rot in a classroom with a bunch of kids that’ll quit in a year after their parents get tired of their whining!”

The man let out a harsh exhale of a laugh, running his tongue over his teeth and looking off to the side with a lopsided smile, coated in frustration. “Your ‘passion’ is going to get you in a cardboard box on the side of the street, begging for pennies with a coffee grinder and a body roll.”

Swallowing the names and the insults he could throw back at the guy, he took in a deep breath and stared him down. “Fuck you,” his words were ice cold and hard as stone. Keith didn’t give himself time to analyze the horrified expression that passed the man’s face as he turned around sharply, making sure the fumbling five-year-olds weren’t listening in. Keith simply stalked into his own studio and turned the music on as loud as it would go.

~ ~ ~

It was close to midnight that Keith lost it. He had been dancing nearly nonstop for hours and he was once again shirtless, sweaty, and completely and utterly frustrated. Allowing himself to flop onto the cold ground, Keith felt the way his skin stuck to the floor, gross in each and every sense of the word. But, it was refreshing to feel something other than his racing heart thrumming in his veins.

The ceiling was spinning in tandem with his thoughts. He really wasn’t going to make the group. He was going to continue dancing for the hip-hop troupe he was a part of, having a performance maybe once a month on some dirty ass dance floor in some seedy club an hour from his apartment.

Even after hours upon hours of practice, he still wasn’t good enough. The voice inside his head was accompanied by the insults from the hula teacher, his voice snide and mean-spirited. There was no way he was going to be able to join this group, so why try? All his efforts were in vain. He wasn’t even sure if he had the strength enough to stand, much less continue dancing, so he stayed splayed out on the ground of the studio, insecurities pounding against his skull.

And that was when he started crying.

He hated crying more than anything. He hated the way it made it eyes burn, his chest ache, his throat raw and scratchy. It made him feel weak, insignificant. Here he was, lying flat on his back, one arm thrown over his eyes as he pulled in gasps of air through thick sobs.

Everything was worthless, pointless, and stupid. He was stupid to think that he would be able to make the group. It was _stupid_ that he was lying on the floor of the dance studio swimming in tears.

He should have given up days ago.

“I--are you, uh, okay?”

Startled, Keith sat up immediately at the voice, feeling his entire body flush. He had his back to the hula boy as he furiously swiped at his tears, trying to collect himself, sniffing obnoxiously. “I’m fine.” His voice wobbled so badly only someone deaf, blind, and oblivious wouldn’t be able to tell he was crying. Well, and the man had probably heard his pathetic wailing through the wall.

“I, uh, well, I don’t really,” the guy started, tripping over his words. “I don’t know if this has anything to do with what I said earlier, but whether or not, I wanted to apologize for what I said earlier.” Mumbling the next part, he continued, “You might have started it, but I took it too far.”

“I’m sorry too,” Keith responded quietly, his voice wavering with the tears still pooling in his eyes. “Sometimes I lose my temper.” The guy sat down next to Keith on the ground, wearing sweats and a yellow v-neck instead of his grass skirt and leaf bracelets.

A soft smile broke out across the guy’s face. His eyes were warm and comforting as Keith studied his face, looking at the way his hair fell almost in front of his eyes and his laugh lines ingrained in smooth skin. “We’ve all been there. Trying out for something new, something you’re really excited about.” Keith looked away, clenching his hands into fists and focusing on the feeling of his fingernails biting into his palms, trying to suppress his tears. “You’ve been practicing for hours on end, now. I’m sure you’re going to do great. And, uh, you’re not gonna end up homeless,” he muttered, scratching the back of his neck and looking away.

Keith let out a exhaled laugh, composing himself little by little. “Thanks, big guy.”

“But honestly? That song is such trash, dude.”

“Oh god, I _know_ ,” Keith groaned, dropping his face into his hands. “I’m so sorry you’ve been listening to it as long as I have. But, on the bright side, I know more Korean than I used to, so that’s gotta count for something, huh?”

The man let out a laugh and nodded, pulling his knees to his chest and gazing at Keith with his deep chocolate eyes. “I can only imagine. I’m Hunk, by the way.” His smile was shining and bright, boring itself into Keith’s heart as his eyes squinted slightly with the size of his grin.

“Keith.” He smiled back, wiping the last stray tears from his eyes and ruffling his hair as he forced himself to his feet. The stupid thing, really, was that he was sitting on the floor of a dance studio a half an hour before midnight sobbing about some audition. He hated admitting that it was some hula boy who’d helped him realize that. “And, uh, I think it’s really cool you’re teaching kids how to hula dance, it looks hard as hell.”

The conversation continued slowly, small smiles, patching up their very short relationship. Hunk gushed about all the different types of dance he practiced and how hard it was to choose hula to teach, since he didn’t have a lot of time. Hunk was in grad school to become an astrophysicist, which was unfathomable to him. Keith lauded him with praise and continued to modestly say he was the lead dancer in his shitty hip hop troupe and worked most nights as a bartender (he’d taken this weekend off to practice for his audition).

Warmth in his gaze, Hunk picked up his bag and shot another smile at Keith, “You’re gonna do great.”

Just as he turned to leave, Keith felt a panic rise in his chest, and in a flurry of desperation, he reached out and grabbed Hunk’s hand; it was soft in his grasp. “Here. So I can let you know how I do tomorrow.” Digging a pen out of his backpack, Keith scribbled his number onto the top of Hunk’s hand. Offering a wide smile, genuine and honest, Keith gazed into Hunk’s chocolate eyes. “Thanks for the help, hula boy.” 

~ ~ ~

 **To: Hula Boy**  

Look forward to hearing a lot more trashy kpop through the studio walls

 

**To: K(pop)eith**

Looking forward to it!

Want to tell me all about it over some coffee?

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading! I have several other heith pieces and a handful of others posted too :)  
> Comments mean the actual world to me, so feel free to leave one, or message me personally on my tumblr @twohundrednine !  
> Shout out to my amazing beta @communikate , she's got some pretty cool works of her own posted, go check them out!  
> Happy Valentine's Day <3


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